


Cherries and kiwi, please

by InaRov



Category: One Direction (Band), zayn malik - Fandom
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Harry is 5 inches small, Jealous Harry, M/M, Tiny Harry Styles, small people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25186744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InaRov/pseuds/InaRov
Summary: Zayn expected everything, ghosts, mice, spiders, creepy monsters or maybe a thief, but not a small man in the toy kitchen from the doll house trying to load as much frets as possible between his tiny arms while cursing his luck. He was wearing a shirt of the same fabric that was missing from shop clothes, tiny trousers, and bare feet; the hair was short and was scrambled in all directions like a soft cotton. So, Zayn could not help the sigh of surprise when the little man turned to see him.*****Or, Zayn works in an antique shop and Harry is the little person living in the dollhouse.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 15
Kudos: 58





	1. The Dollhouse

Zayn could move through his apartment, which was actually his parents' attic, without any problem; have a cup of coffee and an apple for the way to work. He rode his old bike three streets right leaving the house, about thirty towards the center and another fifteen to the beautiful place of Mrs. Mary, an old friend of her mother who had offered him a job after he finished college, which was good, Zayn wanted to stay close to his parents to watch them and see Safa grow up.

Thanks to the growing _hypster_ population in the world, his work was guaranteed in perpetuity, and Mary, having grandchildren and children with interests outside her small town, seemed to want to inherit the place to him, as Zayn actually enjoyed the antique shop so much that every new day he put some records on the record-player, or megaphone, depending on whether he wanted to use, dusted off one of the vinyls from the shelves and let the music flood the place, even though Mary had accepted his proposal to acquire the new vinyls from contemporary artists, then he could put Frank Ocean or Jay-Z, as long as it went to a moderate level.

He cleaned the premises from wall to wall, from the ceiling to the floor, mainly because the dust made him sneeze and the spiders terrified him, but Mary always told him to clean it on odd days.

In certain days, a sweet girl was going to leave him muffins because his boss ordered food for him, as a good older woman whenever she saw him, she said:

"Zayn, honey, you should eat more, you're pure bones and skin.”

So sometimes it was bread rolls, cakes, or biscuits from the bakery shop next to the antique shop, other days the sweet Mary would bring her home-cooked food herself to check that everything was in order. Those were his favorite days as his elderly boss was not originating from England, and although he did not know for sure where she was coming from he was sure Mary would be from somewhere in Latin America, as the food was spicy like the one his father used to do on weekends.

Every day, including that one, Zayn would ride the bike, smiling back at all the people on the sidewalk as he headed to work; living in a small town and being the only Muslim family was a curious mix for everyone to know you.

When he walked into the place, he found Mary with a clipboard and a pen as he rambled near the cash register.

"Good morning, Mrs. Flores, is everything all right?" Zayn hurriedly pass to see the old lady smile wide.

"Good morning, Zayn. Everything's fine, easy, I just came to get a couple of things from some friends.”

Zayn twisted his mouth while his boss didn't see. Every time she said she got something from his friends, it meant someone had died.

The brunette took off his leather jacket to observe the new acquisitions: vinyl records by Aretha Franklin, Ella FitzGerald, Louis Armstrong, Donovan, Scott Mackenzie and many more; a decrepit turntable; clothes from the 1950s and a pair of colorful shoes that had barely been worn.

"The jewels were left to her daughters, but if they had known her better, they would know that Margot's greatest treasure was this” the woman set aside to reveal a dollhouse that reached her hip. “This won't be for sale, Zayn, but I want to keep it around here, so find it a good place. Maybe on the sideboard.”

"But then everyone will think it's for sale, wouldn't you rather I put it in the warehouse?”

"No, no, that place is depressing, this dollhouse deserves a special place, how about behind you?”

Zayn turned around to observe one of the ledges with books. There was no way the dollhouse would get in there. Mary cleared her throat with a mocking smile.

"I meant on the side of the cash register.”

"Oh, of course, that'd be perfect.”

"All right, be very careful with it, Zayn, please.”

The woman handed him the clipboard with a smile and gave himself goodbye to the promise of muffins at noon.

Zayn cleaned every new thing before putting it in place so he can finally concentrate on the huge dollhouse; to a close-up view looked like an ordinary miniature house: it had a kitchen with stove and utensils, three bedrooms with fluffy beds, small closets, tiny lamps like its little finger and some very peculiar plastic toys; it seemed a perfect place to live, albeit too heavy for his taste, for when he put it on the ledge there were at least three occasions when the house nearly broke into a thousand pieces. And there he stood, admiring the house from every possible angle; it was beautiful.

For the rest of the morning there wasn't much movement apart from a young couple looking for vases and the beautiful bakery girl at noon to deliver the chocolate muffins.

Zayn followed the routine, was good at it and the routine wanted him back, so that night he hoped to find his parents finishing dinner when he walked through the door, but instead he found Safa in front of the TV with enormous disinterest towards what they were passing, as instead she looked intently at the kitchen, where his parents spoke quietly. His little sister instructed him to be silent and come closer; when he stood beside her, she whispered.

"I think Dad wants to move to London.”

"But the store is here.”

Safa shrugged, ready to keep listening to whatever she could hear behind the noise of the TV.

There was no discussion at the table about what his little sister had told him, but Zayn could tell how the atmosphere felt tense every time some commentary come up with the issue of the town.

Three days after the dollhouse arrived at the store, Zayn had noticed that strange things were going on. The first thing that struck him were the small drops of water that were scattered all over the counter and on much of the floor, so he spend all day checking the water intakes and the ceiling, in case there was any leak, but found nothing, so he had only dedicated himself to cleaning. The days in the after, Zayn found more drops of water and coffee.

The next strange thing Zayn notice was one day he came to the store earlier than usual; when he was on his way to put a Usher record on the record player, he found that there was already a Fleetwood Mac record in place, and since a long time had passed without Zayn listening to them, he chose to let the record play. A couple of days later he found an album of The Zoombies and the next day, one by Bill Withes; was when he began to suspect that maybe there were ghosts, after all, it was a place full of ancient things, so he investigate the new things in the store, maybe there was a spirit attached to it.

While he was accommodating the clothes, he found missing pieces of cloth, as if the pieces had been torn from it by pulls; then passed through the terrifying porcelain dolls to see the little clothes, but everything was find, so Zayn walked around the store every time he had a free time to watch over all the things. But, as it was a boring day, Zayn found himself playing with the dollhouse, he took the little cooking utensils and pretended to cook something; then he undone the bed in search of some old object that Mary's friend might have hidden, but everything seemed normal except for the bread crumbs and tea leaves inside the little kitchen, which were also scattered throughout the tent; inside tea cups, between the books, next to the clothes, in front of the radios in the warehouse and under the cash register, so he fell into the conclusion that they maybe have mice in the store.

When he told Mary, the elderly woman was alarmed by telling he to get out of there as soon as possible, that she would arrive with the exterminator at midday, se he ended up sitting outside the store for three hours until he saw his boss arrive with a burly man with a huge spray-like backpack.

The exterminator instructed them to close the shop for three days in which he would be carrying the poison; he told them about the possible collateral damage to antiquities, so Mary began to seem more nervous. Things in the store not only represented a monetary income for her but were the memories of her life: from the ancient megaphones to the bulb televisions and all those records. They also represented things from their childhood friends.

The old woman approached the dollhouse to caress the delicate finishes on it.

"You may need to clean the house after fumigation, or, well, they are all old objects, they may have stains when I finish.”

Mary sighed heavily, grabbing fervently from the house; she lost her balance in a heartbeat that left her on the floor and next to her, the huge house that was shattered as it had fallen on a pointed metal ornament. Zayn ran to help his boss, who seemed sadder about the shattered toy than some possible pain in the body.

"We have to go to the doctor, Mary, you can have something...”

"Zayn, the house, Margot's house.”

Mary put resistance when she stood up, so Zayn called his friend Stanley so they could take her to the hospital. The elderly woman, after getting in the car, asked him not to do the fumigation, that she would find another exterminator who wouldn't use chemicals or she would get the classic traps or poisoned cheese, would even adopt Nacho, the stray cat to keep an eye on the store.

Turns out his boss had a femur fractured from the fall. His sons took a couple of hours to get to the hospital so when Zayn returned to the store, the night was already hugging the main street as several streetlights were broken. So, as Zayn enter, he hears small steps and things removing near the cash register; and as he slowly approached, he realized that the noise came from the dollhouse.

Zayn expected everything, ghosts, mice, spiders, creepy monsters or maybe a thief, but not a small man in the toy kitchen from the doll house trying to load as much frets as possible between his tiny arms while cursing his luck. He was wearing a shirt of the same fabric that was missing from shop clothes, tiny trousers, and bare feet; his hair was short and was scrambled in all directions like a soft cotton. So, Zayn could not help the sigh of surprise when the little man turned to see him.

The little person gave a creepy cry before he started running but was stopped by a broken wood that scratched his tiny arm leaving a thin crimson line behind. The man, or rather young boy, stopped short with his eyes wide open; seemed to be resisting the urge to cry as he lay against the wall. Zayn's heart shrank when he saw the tiny guy like this.

"No, no, it's okay, it's okay. I won't hurt you” Zayn raised both hands for the boy to see “Are you hurt?”

The tiny boy nodded, letting out a tear. A little reluctant, he raised his wounded arm so that Zayn could stretch his neck to see him better; didn't look like anything serious but he was bleeding a lot considering the size of the person. He didn’t seem to be taller than 5 inches, maybe less.

The curly boy covered the wound with a trembling hand as he saw Zayn with huge, expectant eyes, full of fear.

"I'll get the first aid kit. Wait here, yes?” the young man nodded.

He ran as fast as he could to the back room where the box was with the huge red cross marked. When he returned, he showed his contents to the young man who gradually approached to expose his entire body. Zayn cut a long, thin strip of bandage to cover the small arm; clean it with alcohol, disinfected it with an antiseptic that seemed to burn the tiny guy to his soul, for his lips ended up very red from so much squeezing them, like the eyes, red from so much avoiding crying. When Zayn had finished, the tiny young man seemed happy to see the result; settled the little curls behind his ears to see him straight in the eye.

"Thank you very much," the little young man whispers. “By the way, my name is Harry" the guy stretch his hand, to which Zayn took between two fingers.

"Zayn, nice to meet you.”

Harry smiled wide on him, showing dimples on his cheeks that made him look even more adorable in Zayn's eyes, if that was possible.

"Do you feel better?” Harry smiled. “All right, did you live in this house?” Zayn pointed to the remains of the dollhouse, and to the sight, the curly guy seemed to grief as he settled “so are you the one who left the breadcrumbs and drops of water?” Harry nodded again, moving his fluffy curls “was it you who cut the shirts too?” the boy seemed guilty.

"I needed more clothes... when they passed the house to this store, they left all my clothes at Margot house.”

"Did you know Margot?”

"Of course, I do. She made this house for my mother” Harry look melancholy at the pile of wood that used to be his home.

Zayn followed Harry, who walked to the kitchen to take back the little things and anything that was not broken, avoiding the places that seemed dangerous; Zayn had his heart broken at the sights, so she reached out his hand for Harry to put things in it.

They managed to rescue some saucepans, the things from the beds and a small closet; the electrical utensils had no function outside the house and the rest of the things were completely broken.

"How come you're intact?" Zayn put the things in a basket closely to the rubble of the house.

"I hid in the books when you called Mary to tell her of the possible mouse” Harry was holding a pair of T-shirts in his arms that he hugged tightly.

"I'm sorry... if I'd known you were here...”

"It's all right; I'm not supposed to let anyone see me. My mom always cared a lot about me, and I don't want her to be disappointed because I don't follow her rules.”

Zayn swallowed the words, it was obvious that Harry's mother was no longer in his life, and the little young man seemed to be alone for a while.

When they finished accommodating things in the basket, Zayn realized that all he had to do was take the house to the dump, it could not be rescued and the countless objects inside that they did not take had been shattered. The night was cold and, looking all over the store, Zayn realized that Harry would have nowhere to protect himself from the dumb stray cat who sometimes spent the night inside, what if he thought Harry was a mouse? What if the cat bit him to death? What if Harry wanted to take a bath and drowned because there was no one who could rescue him? Where would he sleep?

Oblivious to Zayn's concerns, Harry continued to fold his little clothes with delicate hands; hummed a song by reviewing the few things they had managed to recover.

"Harry...” the little curly look at him with huge eyes “where will you stay tonight?”

"Well, here...” Harry vaguely pointed to the store.

"What if Nacho comes?”

"Nacho?”

"The orange cat that comes at night.”

"Oh, I thought you were talking about food. I had a joke for that.”

"A joke?” Harry smiled wide, inhaled a lot of air before laughing.

"Do you know why nacho can run so fast?” Zayn shrugged. “Because it's fast food.”

Zayn stared at him for a long time while Harry laughed at his own joke, so he couldn't help but smile and the curling seemed satisfied with the outcome of his joke.

"So... will you stay in the store? "Harry nodded again “aren't you afraid to be surrounded by a lot of old things? In such a big, cold place where a huge cat will probably come to you that wants to eat you?”

"I hadn't thought about it...” Harry was pouting as he fell into account the bleak atmosphere that awaited him.

"Do you want to come with me?”

The tiny young man looked at him for a moment that seemed eternal, for those green eyes looked at him full of doubt and fear.

"I promise not to tell anyone else that you exist. You'll be safe” Harry pressed a shirt in his hands. “And I can feed you, you don’t have to conform with crumbs; at home there is everything: bread, meat, cereal, my father's special stew. Water.”

"Is there fruit?”

"Fruit? Of course.”

"All right, then. But you can't tell anyone.”

Zayn nodded with a reassuring smile, stretched out the palm of his hand for Harry to come up and placed him gently in the pocket of his plating shirt; he could see through the corner of his eye the soft curls peeking as he took the basket so he could close the shop for good.

During the trip home, he could feel Harry's little hands clinging to his shirt as the air hit them with everything. It was a cold night.

Arriving at his parents' house, Zayn immediately went up to the attic to leave Harry on the pillow, where he instinctively settled down muttering how comfortable it was, how soft it felt and how grateful he was. He left the basket on a stool near the exit before going down to the kitchen, where his father greeted him with a plate of his special stew; his mother smiled lovingly at him repetitively saying how proud she was because of how he took responsibility for Mary.

When he finish dinner, conveniently storing some food in a small plate, Zayn remembered all the boxes containing tiny versions of parts of a normal house that his grandmother had left to Safa when his little sister started collecting Polly Pockets dolls, so Zayn enter the purple room by the bathroom silently.

"What are you doing, rat?” Safa unexpectedly came out behind the door.

Zayn jumped to the bed, falling straight in his ass, holding his chest as he felt his heart wanting to go out.

"Nothing, dwarf.”

"Then what are you doing here?” Zayn didn't remember his little sister being so tall or intimidating. “You're going to steal something, aren't you?”

"Umnnh, no," Zayn was trying to look around the room in the most discreet way possible.

"Zayn, what are you looking for?”

"Ugh, okay, where are all those miniature things Grandma gave you?”

"For what?”

Zayn debated not to hang his sister for a few seconds until Safa snort and showed him the small boxes hidden in her closet for more safety. When he borrowed them, her little sister immediately wanted to know what for, and for several minutes he resisted her gaze and questions, but eventually ended up taking her to the attic to see Harry for herself.

Harry's tiny body was lying on the pillow with all the calmness of the world, his eyes closed as he breathed slowly, but when Safa let out a scream, like those people do when they see a puppy or a baby, Harry immediately sat in to look at Zayn as if he had stuck a knife in his back.

"I had to tell her," Zayn couldn't stand Harry's accusing gaze. “She has things that can serve you.”

"Hello," his sister seemed incredibly happy to see the little young man. “Nice to meet you, my name is Safa.”

Harry turned his back to the pillow so he could get out of the bed and go straight to Zayn's left leg to grab him tightly, so Zayn crouched down to offer him his hand.

"Safa has little things for you, right, Saf?”

Her sister nodded energetically. They went to her room so that Harry could see for himself the miniatures, which were too small for his 5 inches high, watching one by one the boxes until he collapsed on Safa's bed with a weary gesture, hugging himself.

"Harry, are you hungry? "Zayn touched the curly hair with the tip of his finger “you want some bread?

"Are there strawberries? I'd like some strawberries, please.”

"Sure... Saf, could you go down to the kitchen for strawberries and bread? Please.”

Zayn took Harry in his hand to take him to the attic and place him on the pillow again. The little curly boy ate a strawberry of the size of his face at large bites, a small piece of bread and a glass of water from his sister's collection; it wasn't long before Harry fell asleep, so Zayn accommodated him, covering him with part of his blanket while he stayed in the chair. He didn't want to sleep next to him, didn't want to crush him.

He and Safa spent a long time contemplating the little human as he slept, completely fascinated, until the teen hit his arm.

"Why was that, psycho?” Zayn was holding his arm.

"Don't spoil Harry. I can see from far away that he fascinates you. And do not show him to Louis, he'll probably want to step on Harry as soon as he sees him.”

Then Safa left the attic, leaving him alone with little Harry.

Zayn sighed heavily, his sister was right, he had barely spent an afternoon with Harry and had already thought about going to the place where they sold doll clothes to order things of the size of the little curly boy; thought, above all, to search online for a small and functional kitchen as he had once seen on the internet; he imagined taking Harry to the park and... and he didn't know what else, but he liked the company, even if he had to sleep in the chair that night.


	2. Harry in the attic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little things that happened during Harry's first days at Zayn's house.

  1. Sleep problems



Zayn, like many other mornings, was awakened by the footsteps of Safa that ran up the stairs to the attic.

Her little sister took the blanket off for him to see completely, causing the sun to hit his face.

"What do you think of this dress?”

Safa spun in front of his bed, waving the yellow dress that adorned her. It was shorter than he would like, but he just closed his eyes again, it was too early to argue with his sister.

"Zayn, you're not seeing me," he felt his sister's delicate hands moving him with all her might “and where is Harry? Hadn't he fallen asleep in bed with you?”

Zayn stand up from bed to shake the sheets in search of the little boy. He searches under the pillow, on the ball of sheets, under the mattress, behind his shoes; searched every corner until he began to feel the air beginning to be lacking and he felt a constant beep in his ear. Then Safa took him by the hand to breathe with him, while he was locking the place until Zayn could see a small bush of hair moving near the window.

As he approached the frame, Zayn found that Harry was walking through his dressing table with total calmness from the world; looked fresh and gleaming.

"You're fine..."Harry smiled wide as he nodded.

"When I woke up, you were still asleep. I didn't want to bother you, so I came here...”

Safa poked her face out of one side of Zayn, gaining a strong blush from Harry, who seemed to shrink in his place while begging Zayn with his gaze for something the brunette could not fully understand.

"Safa” Zayn turned slowly “the dress is very... it's very nice, but you should do something with your hair.”

His sister took small leaps before leaving the attic, leaving him alone with Harry, who seemed to pick up the milky color on his face again.

"Good morning," Harry extended his little hand to pat Zayn's arm, who smiled kindly before holding him so he could rest on his shoulder.

"Good morning, Harry, did you sleep well?”

"Yes, even though you looked very uncomfortable in the chair and when you move into bed, did you start grinding your teeth, did you sleep well?”

"Sometimes I do that, I'm sorry if I bother you, I umnnh... do you want to have breakfast with me?” The little boy nodded as he looked distractedly everywhere “What do you want for breakfast?”

"Cherries, please.”

Zayn chose to hide Harry inside his leather jacket to go down to breakfast with his family, trying to grab small pieces of the food he moved on his plate from place to place to throw it into the secret pocket where Harry kept, getting funny looks from Safa every time he did it, but he didn't really know how to interpret them. Sometimes he wondered if he had any defects in him because he couldn't understand _people’s signals._

When Zayn finish, he searches in the fridge until three solitary cherries are found in the background.

"Thank you” Harry tried to eat as stylishly as possible as the red juice scurried through his arms. was dried with a napkin. “Ugh, I miss the kitchen... everything is so, _dirty_ when there is no cutlery.”

"Did you eat cherries with cutlery?” Zayn looked with fascination at the little human for a while, always taking his eyes off when he found out to be looking too much.

"Sure, cutlery is the best part. Because... umnh, the piece of meat you throw at me ended up being a mess in the pocket” Harry hidden his face behind the cherry, avoiding the brunette's eyes at all costs.

Unable to avoid it, Zayn began to caress Harry's hair as if he were a hamster, to which the little curler did not protest much less, instead bowed his head to make Zayn understand that he was ok with it. They stayed that way for a long time until Tricia came in unexpectedly, causing Zayn to suddenly hide Harry, so that he was on his lap, under the table.

"Zayn, honey, shouldn't you be getting ready to go to work?” the brunette felt his mother's hand on his head before the kiss. “My sweet, baby Zayn.”

The woman, after hugging him, withdrew from the kitchen, letting Zayn see that Harry was lying on his back, with a little pout and a frown so frowned that the brunette can't help the laughing.

2\. Small food

Much like the day before, Zayn feared leaving Harry completely alone at home, so he chose to take him to work after getting dressed and let the little curly boy bathe in perfume after he kindly asking if he could use a little too.

When they arrived at the antique shop, Mary was sadly contemplating the space where her friend Margot's dollhouse used to be, revealing small smiles every time she caressed the wood.

"Good morning, Mary, umnh, shouldn't you still be in the hospital?” the old woman turned to let Zayn see that she was wearing a special ankle boot; if he looked up more, he could see a wheelchair behind.

"Bah, it was just a sprained ankle. Nothing to worry about, but I wanted to see if anything had been rescued from the house...” she was pensive for a while. “Nettie's in the back checking everything. Thank you for not throwing the house away, Zayn, but you should have checked better if something was left” she pointed out accusable with a long, thin finger at him.

The brunette felt his cheeks blush when Mary said that; an instant later a black-skinned woman came out of the warehouse, sending a smile wide to Zayn, who, unable to help it, felt his face burn as he whispered a softy _"hello Nettie".._ The beautiful woman only waved at him before addressing the old lady.

"I found some things in the house, Grandma, but we should throw away the structure, it's full of splinters and you could get hurt.”

Mary frowned deeply so she could sit in the wheelchair and tell her niece to start pushing. Nettie, leaving her grandmother in the driveway, came back for a huge bag.

"Don't listen to Grandma, she's angry because she threw the house away, and, ugh, I don't know," she was looking for something in the bag until she gets two containers of food out. “The big one has rabbit in sauce and the little one has some onion soup; I hope you like it. There's some bread here, too.”

"Thank you, Nettie” Zayn spoke in a very low voice.

The beautiful woman left a soft kiss on his cheek before leaving completely. Zayn couldn't help but look at his boss and granddaughter until they were lost of sight on a horribly old car.

Zayn let out all the air that had accumulated in his lungs and then pulled Harry out of the secret pocket on his leather jacket. The little curly boy looked very pleased with himself when Zayn floored the shelf next to the cash register, starting to see everywhere before asking Zayn, very kindly, if he could take him to the books section of the store.

Much to his regret, the brunette let Harry wander at pleasure, for he seemed to move as if he were a fish in the water; it was noticeable, when he came down and climbed the shelves, that he had done it for years, even when he took a bad step and it looked like he was going to fall-- and Zayn's heart stopped for an instant as he prepared his body to catch the little human -- he would recover in the last second.

Harry hid perfectly every time a customer walked in and got lost in the aisles, one after the other until in the mid-afternoon Zayn found the curly by the cash register with a small smile, as well as a slight blush on his cheeks and forehead.

"Hello...” Zayn look at Harry from head to toe; he was completely sweaty.

"Hey, umnh...” Harry sat on the edge of the counter “aren't you hungry?”

"Not particularly, do you?

"We ate more than 9 hours ago, and it's almost 5 o'clock” Harry seemed to be debating for a moment. “I'm sorry if I bother you, but I guess since you know I exist, it's better to ask for food than to try to steal it.”

"Oh... I didn't realize it, I'm sorry, do you want some rabbit or soup?” Zayn checked the floor until he finds the food containers. “Nettie prepares the best food in all the world”

"Is that girl your girlfriend? She is very pretty.”

"No, Harry, she's... my boss's granddaughter.”

Harry nodded slowly with a countenance that he didn't seem entirely convinced, but Zayn was grateful to let the subject go.

They both heated the food in the warehouse microwave and while they let the food cool a little, Zayn started looking in the forgotten boxes _for Barbie’s_ things. When he found the right box, he found porcelain food utensils and small metal cutlery in it; vaguely remembered how, when he started working at the store, Mary had told him that, in 1940 or something like that, everything was made of metal, glass and porcelain, before _'plastic fever'._

Zayn left a small plate with cutlery behind the cash register; he cut a small piece of rabbit and bread for Harry, who looked at him with delighted eyes for taking the trouble to make the cuts so tiny. At the end, when it was almost time to close, Zayn left alone the little curly boy so he could close the front door and start picking up the shop; sweep, shake, dust off corners, count the money to take it to the warehouse safe. Everything was going perfectly until he called Harry to go home; when he doesn’t get an answer, Zayn look all over the flirt until he sees a small body coming out of the onion soup.

"Harry, are you all right?” Zayn debated internally whether to take the little young man out with his hand or let him do it himself.

"Ehhh yes, I'm perfectly fine, thanks...” he shook his clothes and hair in a deplorable attempt to get off soup from his hair “Uh, this doesn't smell very good...” Zayn harmoniously laughed while offering Harry a napkin.

"Maybe because you fell into an onion soup and you've been going up and down the store all day.”

"You're envious of my great ability to climb.”

"Oh, umnh, yes, obviously.”

Zayn kept laughing all the way home, even though Harry seemed angry about his unpolished appearance, he couldn't help it.

3\. The bathroom incident

Zayn open and close the shelves all over the kitchen in search of a container that could serve as a bathtub for Harry as the water warmed up on the stove.

"Hey myopic," Safa kisses his cheek before she could hug him “how's your day?”

"Hello dwarf. Good, Harry fell into the onion soup Nettie made.”

"Unnnh Nettie, huh? Have you asked her out yet?” Zayn shrugged. “How about Linda? The girl from the bakery; she's ridiculously cute, you’d make a nice couple” Zayn twist even more in place as he settled his glasses on top of his nose.

"No... I don't know Saf... how... how'd it goes today with the dress?” Zayn noticed his little sister in pants and a T-shirt that was huge for her.

"Nothing to tell," the girl kept her eyes on her brother as he kept searching. “I was stuck in the school seat and... what are you looking for?”

"Anything to use as a bathtub?” His sister's eyebrows soared upwards. “Harry wanted to bathe, so I warm water," he pointed out at the stove "and I'm looking for a bathtub, but it's all exceedingly small or too big.”

"Umnnh... how's the sauceboat? Or Mom's bread pan?”

Zayn took the hot water and the sauceboat while his sister took the bread pan to go together to the attic. Harry was sitting at the desk trying to get rid of the pieces of onion and bread that were stuck in his hair, jerking himself to curse in a very low voice, as if he thought that swearing bad words was the most inappropriate thing in the world.

Harry smile immediately at the sight of Zayn coming in, seemed to light up his face, so Zayn raised the things he had in his hands a little more for the little human to examine; when Safa appeared with the pan, Harry smiled even more, for he had to choose; it took him a minute to pick up the sauceboat.

"I have this too” Zayn took purple dust from his desk, “they're lavender bath salts.”

"What will they do?” Harry inspected them with his eyes without daring to touch them.

"They make the water smell good and they have oils and things...” Zayn scratched his chin without finding any further description.

"They help you relax," Safa interjected.

While Zayn poured hot and cold water to leave the bath at a pleasant temperature, he could feel the watchful eye of Harry and Safa.

When Zayn added the bath salts the water turned a subtle purple hue with what appeared to be diamond and imperceptible pieces of leaves, to which Harry smiled enormously. When he began to get rid of his shirt he stopped halfway to slit his throat; Zayn and Safa looked at him intently, and just flipping around did not seem to convince the little human, so both brothers left the room to sit on the stairs.

"You really like Harry, don't you?” Zayn could feel the smile spreading on his face. “He’s really nice, and it's good to know you have someone... well, I mean, besides Louis.”

"Harry's cute, yes.”

"You're going to end up pamper him so much.”

"Of course not...”

"It wasn't a question, big brother.”

After 20 minutes out of the attic, Zayn re-entered as Safa retreated to his room.

Harry was in the salt shake, completely relaxed as he combed his hair with a tiny brush; looked really concentrated as he counted the number of times he brushed.

"Hey," Zayn spoke in a very quiet voice.

"Hello," Harry turned in the turbulent water. “I'm almost done, I just need to rinse the soap and h... Yes.”

"Would you mind if I left you alone for a while? I'd like to take a bath, too.”

"Sure, no problem, will you bathe in a tub too?

"If you mean a sauceboat, I don't...”

"I know what a bathtub looks like, thank you. Can I come with you? Please?” Zayn stopped during his actions, which consisted of taking out his clean clothes. “I have always wanted to go to sea; Margot used to show me travel magazines and let me browse them. The beaches look great... but, I suppose we live far away from it".

"Umnh, yes, I guess the beaches in the UK are not like the ones you saw in the magazines” Zayn already had an outing a towel for Harry in one hand, and in another his robe “Did they never improvise a pool when you lived with Margot?” Harry denied.

"Margot and my mom were never fans of water or _normal size_ bathtubs...”

"Oh, I'm sorry.”

"Do you like the sea?” Zayn shrugged “how are the pools? I used to watch a TV show where teenagers would go to public pools in the summer, or to the beach, do you like them?”

"No... I don't know how to swim, really, and I'm afraid of the very deep water...”

"Oh....”

Harry was silent for several seconds, staring very curiously at Zayn, and not in the way he made the brunette feel airless and palpitating, just staring at him with his eyebrows in a line. Zayn passed the towel out of his hands to the little human so he could wrap himself so well that he could take him downstairs to lock in the bathroom.

They stood in the toilet watching the tub fill with hot water, Harry still wrapped in the towel that rested on Zayn's lap. When the water was on the right level, Harry got rid of his cover, becoming completely naked—and making Zayn blush— so he could enter to the tub, while the brunette stood in his underwear and a black long-sleeved T-shirt.

"Aren't you supposed to be naked to bathe? "Harry floated by Zayn's knees, “you want me to leave?”

"No, unnh, it's okay, you swim.”

"Do you mind being naked in front of someone else?” Zayn could only feel his face burning. “It shouldn't bother you; you are very attractive, the last thing anyone would notice about you is your body...”

"You were the first to not want to be naked in front of someone not long ago.”

"Oh, that was because your sister was there, but now we're alone. You want to hear a joke? Maybe that will help you relax” Harry barely wait for a flicker of Zayn to speak again. “How do vampires bathe? They all get in the bat-tub.”

Zayn could only smile halfway through the bad joke before making a wave with his hands to stop Harry from laughing.

4\. Tailor-made clothes

After several days of having Harry in constant company, Zayn became aware of his sad gaze on the little clothes he had; two trousers, of which one already had a hole, and five T-shirts with a little neat finish, and that it, all that time, Zayn had also noticed that when they were in the store, Harry used to go to see the old Vogue magazines-he especially liked the ones of 1960-, and while he did not do that, he talked until he was out of breath, because he never ran out of words; made Zayn feel safe and comfortable, though his jokes became more constant and less funny, but he still laughed; Zayn didn't know why, because the jokes weren't even funny. He had learned to speak to Harry more than to other people, even his family, even more so when Harry told him that he liked "the dress" he wore on Fridays to pray.

Zayn had improvised a bed for Harry on the shelf he had on his bed; The pillows they had rescued from the dollhouse were there, but, as it appeared to have become a habit in the little human, a hemp sweater turned to his blanket and mattress, barely leaving Zayn to take it off for washing every 20 days, though, when the brunette go out with Louis, Harry had told him to wear the sweater. That same night he went back to sleep in it.

Harry, having been in the store for a day, seemed to be completely enraptured with a pair of warm-colored new arrivals, so Zayn had let him play with one next to the cash register. Chris Brown was subtly heard in the background.

"Do you like clothes very much?”

"I think dressing up well is a form of good manners, don't you think? Or maybe it's like, like, getting your best clothe for someone you like, right?” Harry blinked very slowly as he saw Zayn directly in the eyes.

"I suppose so, I've never thought about it. I don't really pay attention to the clothes I wear. Well, I mean, I like my clothes to match, of course, who doesn't?”

"You like perfumes, don't you?” Zayn nodded slowly. “I like fashion; there are good magazines in the warehouse, I could show you amazing combinations”.

"Sure, I'd love that.”

Harry disappeared for several minutes, but Zayn's wait was interrupted when several clients walked around the store to, after a 20-minute walk, ask the brunette for help, who showed them the radios, carpets, some vases and, for a woman who did not pass 25 years old, a lot of old T-shirts. Walking through the aisles, one of the clients started a magazine that he gave Zayn; it was a 1962 Vogue that showed a bunch of daisies and a blue eye, which he held closer to his chest and look after Harry, even though he can't find him anywhere, at least not while there were customers in the store.

Zayn browsed the magazine watching several women modeling clothes, as well as some advertisements, food articles and vacation spots; the most constant were the photographs of the sea, the beach and a lot of women strewn across the sand with swimsuits printed in stripes. *

Harry sprang up on his thigh near lunchtime.

"Isn't it beautiful?”

Harry had his eyes light up when he saw the models pass in swimsuits and various types of summer clothing. He didn't know why, but Zayn was itchy in his arm when he watched Harry enjoy it so much. They were just a bunch of girls in bikinis.

At the end of the magazine, Harry pulled out another, this time a version of gentlemen where the clothes were more modern and extravagant; Striped suits, paintings, flower prints, embroidered T-shirts, flared trousers, tight denim jeans that left nothing for the imagination, but, what Zayn might notice that the little one caught his attention more, was a section that showed shoes; bright boots, colorful sneakers and quirky shoes. None of them hear the bell from the entrance for Bill Withers' music.

"Hello Zayn” a chubby girl with dark wavy hair, hurried her way to the counter. “Today I made blueberry pie, your favorite” while the brunette blushed, the girl pull out of a basket a plate with the promised dessert.

“Hello Linda...”

"And, I bring you something extra special," she extended a book of gnawed pasta. “It's one of my favorites; Lovecraft.”

"Oh wow, thank you Linda, I've wanted to read this for a long time.”

By the time the girl left, Harry seemed upset because he suddenly closed the magazines so he could drag them back from where he had taken them out, refusing Zayn's help.

"A lot of girls follow you” Harry snapped his tongue as he watched Zayn count the money in the box at the end of the day.

"Excuse me?”

"All the girls who come into this store seem to be your girlfriends; preparing food and giving you things and... making these eyes” Harry began to blink fast.

"They're not my girlfriends" Zayn smiled halfway through to lighten the situation, but Harry seemed to frown more.

Harry didn't talk to him on the way home or at dinner, only when Zayn was about to turn off the light, the little curly boy came out of the sweater to wish him sweet dreams.

Because Mary had a lot of appreciation for him, Zayn had managed to get his day off the next day, Tuesday, so he take the opportunity to drag Harry out of the house, despite his moody face, to take him to a place in the south of the village some streets further away from the antique store.

"Zayn... You past the store, and it's already late" Harry was peeking out of his shirt pocket, trying not to get out too much.

"We don't go to the store today” he shows a smile for the little human.

Harry said nothing, he just kept quiet as the wind hit them; despite he looked suspicious and angry, he did not protest or ask where they were going, not even when they stopped in front of a house with a window full of dolls' clothes.

Zayn believed that because he lived in a small town one person could have certain advantages that in a big city did not, such as having people make wooden furniture at a reasonable price to the taste of the person who commissioned them, several shoemakers, farms that offered the products they harvested at low prices and, most importantly at the moment, a dressmaker who specialized in high-quality doll wear.

"Harry, don't hate me, but pretend to be a doll and don't move at all, okay?”

Zayn did not give him time to reply, for he had made the comment just before crossing the doorstep, which announced his arrival with a bell ring, making an old woman to look at them as they enter, she smiled bit as she saw the brunette approach.

"Zayn, honey, how's the cutest boy in town? Michael just says you're _progressing."_

"Hi Rossy; I'm very well, thank you.”

"How did you been feeling? Have you been eating well? Don't skip any food, okay?”

"No, I'm... umnnh well... I umnnh...”

"Do you want me to make you another linen or cotton shirt? Maybe a sweater?”

"No, this time is something different” Zayn took a big breath of air before putting his hand in his pocket; felt Harry bite his finger as he pulled him out. “I want some clothes to fit him.”

Rossy took Harry with loving hands, accommodating his curls so they wouldn't cover his face; she examined the clothes he was wearing while dropping small sighs alongside several _"wow’s"_ while spinning the curly boy's small motionless body.

"It's a genuinely nice toy, Zayn. Although the clothes leave much to be desired” the woman placed a pair of big glasses on, pull out a notebook, pencil, and tape measure so that she could take Harry's measurements “What kind of clothes do you want for this handsome?”

"Shirts, please. Oh, and pants... a sweater, maybe?” the brunette cast a look of doubt at the woman.

"Sure, I can do all that.”

The woman pulled out a token of fabrics, all of natural origin, from which Zayn chose pastel colors for T-shirts and shirts; dark colors, black, orange and so on, for pants, while for sweaters chose light blue, orange, yellow and green stamen.

At the end of the session, and with Harry returned to the safety of his pocket, Rossy had an order of 15 T-shirts, 5 shirts, 5 pants and 4 sweaters, while Zayn had less money in his savings account.

When they finished with the clothes, Zayn quickly made his way to a family of shoemakers, repeating the action of taking Harry out so that a young man could measure his feet with far less interest than Rossy. Shiny boots and several pairs of tennis were commissioned, this time leaving him with much less money than planned.

Neither Zayn nor Harry talked about shopping when they returned home, much less with the days passing by, but the curly one would feel uncomfortable every time he saw the brunette in the same usual clothes when he got home.

Two weeks later, on an outing with Louis, Zayn took the opportunity to go through all of Harry's clothes, which he doesn’t wait a minute to show them to him and Safa. They were perfectly made clothes and shoe, so Zayn did not feel so bad that he had spent so much money on them as he sees Harry’s bright eyes.

"Zayn, I... thank you” Harry looked at all the clothes with huge eyes, for he seemed not to know what to look at from everything.

"You're welcome, why don't you try on your clothes? I want to know if I don't waste the money on things that didn’t fit you properly.”

Harry nodded with great energy to run after a couple of books on the desk that served as a tester room; he model each of the new pieces for the Malik brothers, always smiling and thanking Zayn, over and over again. When the clothes were finished, Harry devoted himself to carefully storing it near his bed, in a jeweler that Safa had given him to be his new closet.

"I told you you'd end up pampering him...”

Safa taped him on the chest as they both looked in adoration at Harry.

That night, until late, the little curly boy kept talking about a lot of things, telling jokes that drew unattractive laughter from Zayn, like:

—What do you call an alligator with a vest? An inVESTigator—and another a little more tender, according to Zayn—What do you call a group of disorganized cats? a Cat-astrophe.

And so, he went on and on until Zayn could not keep his eyes open for more than two consecutive minutes, then Harry give him a soft kiss on the cheek and climb to the shelf, to his bed.

5\. Louis

Zayn could feel Harry watching him from the shelf, but that did not make to take his sight from deviating from the book he was reading; he had promised Linda to return it in a week, of which much more time has elapsed; He also knew that he had to keep the promise of taking Harry to the park so he could explore, but he knew that the priority was Linda because every time she was going to leave him desserts, she would ask him how he find the book, while Harry did not seem upset about missing a day in the park.

Because it was Sunday, and some days—or maybe weeks—that Zayn didn't see Louis, Zayn's heart rate accelerated when he heard loud footsteps walking up the stairs to his door, which suddenly opened, revealing a brown hair boy with the biggest smile that could exist in the world.

"Zayn, honeyyyy," Louis approached the bed, leaving little or no personal space for the brunette to move. “You son of a… couldn't you pick up the phone and answer me?”

"I umnnh... what?”

"You left my messages, hundreds of them, in view; don't get annoyed at answering” Louis had his face awfully close to Zayn's, almost rubbing his nose. “And I come here, with my beautiful face to see you, you dirty bastard, and what do I find you doing? Reading in your room” Louis pushed him until he had enough space to sit in bed.

"Sorry Lou...”

“Mhm...”

Louis gave him a dull look as he approached his face little by little, seeing him with suspicious eyes until he almost touched Zayn with his nose. When he opened his mouth to speak again, or complain rather, Zayn saw in slow motion as a cherry bone flew to his friend's forehead, causing him to slam his mouth shut.

"Oi, what the fuck?”

Louis flipped everywhere, trying to find out where the attack came from. As his eyes were headed right where Harry was resting, Zayn held Louis' jaw so he could turn it over.

"Why did you come?”

"To see my favorite asshole? Isn't that reason enough?” Louis crossed his arms, indignantly, before speaking softly. “I was worried about you and that you were in the middle of a crisis... I didn't want to come here... And find you… well, you know.” He takes air before pulling out a small bag from his backpack “and I didn't want to smoke all this by myself!”

Zayn smiled halfway through as his friend held him with one arm to see the cute greenish, purple color that had marijuana in his bag. Louis kissed his forehead before getting up to look at his desk for the hidden pipe at the bottom of the drawer to start cleaning the weed. Zayn walked to his friend so that he could see him do his job well; could see a new cherry bone trying to give Louis, but it went to stop far away from his friend, turning, Zayn didn't see Harry anywhere.

They closed the door of the room safely and in less than 20 minutes the place was up to the top of smoke because "clumsy Louis" had forgotten to open the window completely, so, while they were completely drugged, they tried to ventilate the place with fans made with magazines and books that they found in their path. Another ten minutes later, Louis was sitting on the floor watching Zayn walk back and forth trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"Zayn... Zayn, brother, you have to see this” Zayn threw his notebook to sit on the floor next to Louis.

"What?”

"Don't speak loudly...” Louis pointed out Harry's slowly moving body on the desk with a shaky hand.

"What am I supposed to see?” Zayn speak with difficulty; knew he should not directly see the curly boy, but his eyes could not turn away from him.

"Dude, don't you see?” Louis pointed more intensely at Harry, who was completely absorbed eating the cake left over from breakfast. “You're looking at the same point as me, obviously you have to see what I do...”

"Louis, brother, I have no idea what’s....”

Louis covered his mouth while frowning a lot; he instruct him to shut up, and, while Zayn saw everything in slow motion, unable to move, he watch as his friend slowly got up to go to the table and catch Harry in a glass. The curly boy appeared to panic inside the glass, as he began to hit the glass hard.

Harry, watching him closely, seemed about to cry under the yoke of Louis's gaze, who looked at him with great concentration, as if he were debating between the small curly being was real or product of his mind after having drugged so much. Zayn grabbed his friend's arm hard, trying to get him to look away from Harry, but nothing seemed to work, so he used the same tactic of omitting the personal space between the blue-eyed boy and him.

"Louis... Louis, look at me” Zayn brought his face very close, so his friend had no choice but to see him in the eye “There is nothing...”

Zayn heard a heavy blow to the glass, followed by something breaking, so the panic indeed his being; he didn't want to turn to the ground and see Harry there, bleeding to death or worse, with some broken bone because then what would he do? He couldn't take him to the hospital to be cured, what would he tell them? What if they took Harry to a lab to do experiments with him like in the movies? What if he was tortured for the rest of eternity and it was all Zayn's fault? He didn't know anyone with medical studies who could help him. Zayn could feel as the air was beginning to be short even though he was trying to breathe more, but it was too fast for the air to enter his lungs properly.

He felt Louis' hand holding him tightly to shake him, trying to get him to focus on him or anything else, so Zayn looks at his friend, often looks at the hand that didn't hold him, and could see Harry holding himself on one of Louis's fingers so he wouldn't fall. The weight of the world seemed to partially leave Zayn's shoulders, so he could breathe more calmly, so that he could hold Harry in his hands to attach him to his chest; he felt like Louis didn't go unnoticed that action.

"So, you don't see it, do you?” Louis, despite the resentment in his voice, kept stroking Zayn’s arm in a reassuring manner, and he kept doing it until Zayn regained the normal rhythm in his breathing. “I suppose, for the way you're so loving in that way you hold that thing, you already have time with it.”

"No...” his voice came out with difficulty as he felt Harry cling very tightly to his shirt. “This is Harry, not t _hat thing_."

“Okay...”

Louis took Zayn in his hands to guide him back to bed, let the brunette recharge his head on his shoulder while lovingly stroking his hair. Zayn could feel the weight on his shoulders completely fading, so he sank his face into his friend's neck, trying to identify the perfume he was wearing; he let himself be hugged, and after 10 minutes he separated to look at the blue eyes.

"Thank you...” he sighs heavily. Louis caress his face as he smiled.

"You're welcome. Now, you want to tell me who he is?” With a certain finger, Louis peaked Harry on the side, earning a little scream from the curly boy.

"This is Harry. He umnh, he's been living with me for three months now.”

"Three months! Why didn't you tell me anything?” Louis spoke with pain in his voice.

"I'm sorry, I thought... Thought... I don't know what I thought, maybe that you were going to crush him if you knew of him or that you'd take him away or... or I don't know.”

"Dude, how little faith you have for me” Zayn twisted his mouth in an attempt to have the guilt slip out of his body as he felt Louis's arms surrounding him “do you want to tell me more?”

"Yes, yes... Harry” Zayn raised the little one until he was at the height of his eyes. “Harry, this is Louis, we went to college together and...”

"I studied philosophy," Louis smiled wide. “And now I'm the sexy high school teacher in town.”

"Don't be afraid," Zayn caress Harry's hair to take off his face from his chest so that he could see Louis in the face. “Louis, this is Harry, he's umnh... a new friend. I met him at the antique store.”

Zayn had to give credit to his friend as he smiled as friendlily as possible, despite the bad start it seemed that Louis was really trying to make up for it, so Harry, assuming he saw the same thing as Zayn in his friend, gave him a very small smile, barely marking his dimples.

"Are you Zayn's boyfriend?” Harry looked sad as he spoke. Louis, for his part, can't stand the laughter.

"Me? Boyfriend of this freak of nature? Pfff never.”

"Thank you for the moral support," Zayn looked with hatred at Louis, who blew him a kiss. “And no, Harry, Louis is not my boyfriend, he's my stupid best friend since... Well, for as long as I can remember.”

"So why do you hug so much and send hi. kisses and all that? In books and movies, couples do that…”

"Well” Louis regain the calm in his voice “I've been a longtime friend to Zayn, it became natural for us to have so much physical contact, do you not have any such friends in your life?” The little curler denied. “Oh... aren't there more people like you?” Harry shrugged his shoulders with a sad look.

“Harry lived at the dollhouse of a friend of Mary's; it used to be just him and his mother...”

"Oh shit. I'm sorry to hear that, lil' buddy, but... Zayn and I can be your friends, right Zayn?” Harry shrank in his place, so Louis seemed to shine something in his eyes. “I can be your friend, I promise I won't put you in a glass again, okay? I just thought I was hallucinating with the drug—that you probably drugged with, too—and I wanted to make sure you were real.”

"Harry? You want to be friends with Louis? He's a great friend, he's always there for me, even in the worst moments” the alluded one nodded energetically as Harry seemed to think his words.

"You want to go to the park?”

Louis seemed satisfied with those words, even though Zayn did not fully understand them. They packed food for the day, drinks and some of the old toys Zayn had stored in his closet, only those he thought would be useful to Harry during his little time out. He says goodbye to his mother and kept the little curly boy in the pocket of his leather jacket. It was a cold day and his heart shrugged when he saw Harry wearing the little blue sweater, which was a little big for him, making him look so soft and huggable; Zayn wished more than ever that Harry was of normal size, so that he could embrace him.

Upon arriving at the park, Louis and Zayn let Harry get on a toy boat so that he could sail the lake while they prepared a picnic under the cool shade of a tree, as, even though the day was cold, the sun was burning them out. Zayn trys to cut bread into small pieces to leave them on Harry's plate; Louis cleared his throat tightly, indicating that he should turn it over to see him.

"So, Harry, huh?”

"What do you mean?”

"Haven't you noticed? "Louis left aside the drinks he had in his hands to see Zayn directly in the eye," really? Ugh, Zayn, seriously.”

"I don't understand," he really felt lost in the conversation “what should I have noticed?”

"Oh, I don't know, that Harry looks at you with lamb eyes, or the fact that you had a panic attack because you thought he'd fallen out on the broken glass, uumnh?” Zayn nervously scratched his neck as he made sure the boat was still within reach of his hands. “Zayn, I don't want to... how do you feel about Harry?”

"Normal, I suppose, how should I feel?”

"Attracted? It shows from afar that the little one is in love with you, and that you, well, do you like him too? It's okay if you say yes, I just want to know.”

"I... I guess so, I like him…” Zayn could feel the blush in his cheeks.

"You know you guys could never, you know, have _a normal relationship_... if you know what I mean.”

"As if I wanted to have sex...” Zayn listened to Louis sighing heavily before holding his hand.

"I don't mean that, Zayn, but I know that at some point you'll want to kiss him and hug him and... I don't want to go to your home one day and find you lying in your room having a panic attack, or see that you don't want to get out of bed because you feel sad and haven't eaten in days. I don't want to, I don't want you to be taken to a clinic again.”

Zayn felt his heart beat several times; he embraced Louis very strongly, leaving him a kiss on the cheek in the midst of that action.

"I'll be fine, I promise; Harry, I think it's kind of jealous, but...”

"Did he throw the cherry bone at me?”

"Yes... But, he's a good chap, I swear.”

"Okay, okay, I believe you, just let me know if anything happens, okay?”

Zayn nodded, letting his friend go from the hug in which he was imprisoned. He knew he was lucky to have the blue-eyed boy in his life.

After a long time, Louis went for the toy boat, bringing Harry sitting on his shoulder laughing uncontrollably; Zayn could tell Harry had told some of his cheesy jokes, as Louis turned his eyes constantly. With the little curly more closely, Zayn could notice that he had a red face from the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the symptoms of Zayn's aren't very realistic, I tried to be careful to research and mimic them, also, sorry if there are too many errors or if this got a little more dark than expected.  
> Anyway, thank you very much for read my little story, all the love to you for that <3  
> K.


	3. Harry's choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an usually, sorry for the misspellings and all that :(

As they spent time together, Zayn felt more comfortable being close to Harry, and it was natural to be with him; waking up every day with gentle pats of the curly one on his cheek, eating together at home and in the antique shop, reading magazines, staying up until midnight and spending the days off with Louis, who seemed to appreciate Harry more and more, though, much to Zayn's regret, both boys treated each other abruptly. Louis used to throw Harry straight into the bathtub and even the little bed, so Zayn always ended up beating his friend for being so unsorted delicate with Harry.

He loved to see Harry wake up: the lost look, red cheeks and swollen face that gave way to a huge smile every time he stood in front of Zayn's face, and he was sure that the best part was not the smile, but the kiss that the curly left him on the cheek to wish him a good day. The way Harry helped him cook or when they watched TV with Safa, on one side, all while the small body of Harry rested on Zayn’s stomach.

"I like your belly," Harry managed to make the fat on his belly button a kind of seat. “It's soft, just like you.”

He also liked when Harry fell asleep on his lap in the antique shop after pouting on the constant flirtations Linda and Nettie dedicated to him every day; the frown on the little face that time when Zayn wandered a goodbye kiss a few inches, ending in a subtle kiss on the lips of Mary's beautiful granddaughter, leading to a silent deal on Harry's part; he remembered vaguely how he found the little boy a few hours after the kiss, in the early morning, crying, wrapped in the black sweater that served as his bed. That had broken his heart in a thousand pieces for the brunette, so that night he took the little body in his hands to lay it on the pillow, stroked his hair and told him how much he loved him, that he was the best thing ever happened to him; whispered incoherencies about how much his life had improved since he was in it and everything that could occur to him until Harry believed him, until he went back to sleep hugging his chest. That night was the first time in a long time that Zayn felt really loved.

After that, Louis had a special talk with Harry, after which the little curly boy looked calmer every time Nettie or Linda gave him things, and although Zayn didn't know what the talk was about, he was immensely grateful for his friendship with the blue-eyed boy and whatever he had with Harry.

However, despite all the things they had gone through, Zayn still did not feel sure to be uncovered in front of the little young man.

"I don't understand why it's so hard for you to be naked with me," Harry floated in the water lazily, completely naked near the brunette's chest. “We have lived together for a while... umnnh like a year or more, and we do everything together; we eat, we sleep, we go for a walk. I know your bad habits and the amount of gases you release when you fall asleep...”

"Shhh..." Zayn covered his face with his hands as he felt the warmth in his cheeks spreading to his neck.

"Don't be ashamed," Harry held on Zayn's arm so he could see him straight in the eye. “The gases are normal, as well as going to the bathroom; if you didn't go to the bathroom, I'd worry a lot about you” the curly boy looked really dismayed “remember the first few months together? You were always swollen. Oh, and now you eat better; you had the worst meal schedule I've ever seen.”

"I must take that medical book away from you...”

Harry, wet and slippery as he was, tried to climb to Zayn's knee with little success, as there was nothing to hold on to.

"Stop rubbing on my leg, Harry," Zayn pushed his friend's little body back into the water.

"Well, if I had anything to hold on to get on the way up, I _wouldn't rub_ on your knee” the curly boy looked upset of floating in the water again, so Zayn coined him in his hands.

"I thought you didn't want me to wear clothes anymore.”

"Well, you could help me up. I get tired of swimming all the time...”

Zayn lovingly placed Harry's body on his chest; legs still in the water while his face rested on the black T-shirt that stuck to his skin. He noticed how the little boy seemed uncomfortable at the fabric, for he extended the folds repeatedly without finding a comfortable position. It didn't take much time for Zayn to decide to take off his shirt in such a way that the small body could be next to his, skin against skin, in an intimacy that the brunette thanked.

Zayn could see Harry trace with his little fingers the lines of ink that were spreading on his chest. The green eyes wandered from the skulls on his shoulders to the heart on his hip, then the brunette felt his heart stop beating for an instant in what the curly boy stopped his gaze on the gun, then lower.

"I didn't know you had so many tattoos...” green eyes were wide open as Harry swam away to have a better view. “I mean, wooo; I don't know why I thought they were stopping at your elbows... you always wear so many clothes.”

Harry floated away from him for several minutes, admiring all the tattoos that adorned Zayn's skin until he seemed satisfied with everything he saw; hurried back into the brunette's chest, smiling wide.

"I'd like to have tattoos like you," Harry raised an arm for Zayn to look at. “A mermaid over here, a guitar... I could tattoo Nacho, or umnnh flowers, many, many flowers; perhaps something in the pelvis” the little hands pointed to the V that was marked on his lower abdomen. “But not like you... maybe a teddy bear or a sun, don't you think it would be cute?”

"I like your skin like that, the milky tone and the curls," Zayn strokes Harry's hair, earning a little smile. “But a couple of flowers around here would look great" Zayn pointed the arm “and the sun on the neck.”

"Do you think I could get one? I mean... sometime, you think...” Harry was silent midway through the sentence, preferring to hug the brunette's chest.

Zayn took Harry to leave him in the soapbox, so he could finish bathing.

He hated those moments, when he couldn't give something to Harry that it was so easy to obtain, that so mundane that he didn't stop to think twice when he did; tattoos, haircuts, sit at the table in a coffee shop and eat in public without fear of being kidnapped, walking several miles without getting tired or going to the store to try on clothes. Because Zayn had paid attention to Harry's love for the garments he had, washed them vehemently, and folded it carefully, so much so that the brunette always ended up ordering more clothes from Rossy, now with the specifications the little young man gave him; even had some pairs of colorful socks.

Zayn had no choice but to sigh after thinking who might tattoo Harry's little body, as he knew of no one who could make such small images, not to mention how rare it would be _to take his doll_ to tattoo.

"I don't mind not being able to get tattooed, you know?” Harry was running naked through the bed so he could climb on the ledge “It's just, I think it would be nice to have a tattoo, we could even have one as a couple, right? I mean, couple of friends...”

"I suppose; you'd be a little sun on my wrist, and I'd be the huge moon on your back.”

Harry pulled out his tongue in his direction while wearing corduroy pants, a light blue T-shirt, and a pink sweater; the cold weather sat him wonderfully, with the beautiful pink tone that acquired his skin. Zayn, once dressed, kept Harry in his pocket to go down to eat; in the kitchen there was a slight chatter when he showed up.

His older sister, Waliyha, was present, holding a little baby in his arms, ready to kiss him; beside her, Doniya held a huge green box that she threw aside as soon as she saw him and thus embrace him very tightly, even Louis appeared on his periphery at the time of the hug. Everyone wished him a happy birthday and started passing him the gift boxes.

Waliyha swayed the baby from one arm to another as she watched Zayn open the gift; a watercolor paper notebook and a bunch of paintings next to a perfume he adored. Doniya, in her huge green box, sheltered several books. Louis poached him on the lips, causing everyone to laugh, he only pass an envelope, but as soon as Zayn opened it, his eyes opened wide, inside were two tickets to see Frank Ocean next month at London's O2 Stadium.

"One is for me, of course," Louis took a ticket to keep inside his jacket. “I'll pay for the taxi back home” he gives Zayn a playful wink and then hug him.

Finally, his mother made his way from all the people around his son; the hug she gave him felt warm, full of love, and even more so when his father surrounded them from behind.

"Well, we will give you our gift in the evening," Tricia put a plate of food in front of him. “Meanwhile, your favorite breakfast.”

Zayn cheerfully contemplated the English breakfast in front of him, although he was concerned that he could not feed Harry, as so many eyes on him made the task difficult for him; he was almost caught by Doniya when he throw a piece of bread and tomato into his pocket, if it hadn’t been for Safa and his swift reaction to distract the whole family, Harry could had been exposed.

"How did you get here?” Zayn turned the view to his older sisters, who ate as if there was no tomorrow. “I didn't even hear you coming...” he was trying to make funny faces to the baby sitting next to him “And how's Daniel, Waliyha? Why didn't he come?”

"Brother, you sleep like you're dead, we're here before you went for a bath.”

"Daniel is fine, but he's still working and couldn't get away with me, to my favorite brother's birthday” his older sister's tattooed hand squeezed his face affectionately. “But he wishes you the best of birthdays and sent Tarik on his behalf, isn't he the cutest little chubby baby?”

Waliyha spread the baby to Zayn so that he could rest in his arms; he cooed him for a few moments as the baby touched his chest, babbling incoherencies that only he and his mother understood. The baby wouldn't let him eat, but Zayn could see Harry extend his arm to touch Tarik's hand.

"Remember that your uncles and cousins will come tonight to celebrate” their mother spoke between bites, through a napkin “so don't be late, and don't eat too much cake; I know Linda always brings you desserts, so don't fill yourself with whatever she gives you this afternoon, and don't let Nettie drag you to a party because everyone will be waiting for you here and...”

"Oh, wait a second," Doniya pulled him by the arm to see him better, “Nettie Adams? The girl you were in love with all high school? How did that happen? Are you going out with her?”

"I didn't...” Tarik pulled his beard painfully, pointing to his pocket so Zayn could give him whatever was inside of it. “She's not my girlfriend, she's my boss's granddaughter and...” Zayn could feel Harry's little body pulling the fabric of his shirt, so he put a protective hand on him. “And Linda, she's a friend, just like Nettie and...”

"So, none of them are your girlfriend?” Waliyha had an inquisitor look, much scarier than Safa's “do you have a partner? Or are you still single?”

"I don't want to... I'm not interested...” all eyes were on him, but only Safa looked at him with pity, while the others had doubts.

"Are you more interested in men and that's why you don't want either of the girls? "his mother looked at him fondly, despite everything. “It's okay if you want to be with a man, honey, everyone else at this table likes them so I don't see any problems if...”

"No mom! God... I'm not interested in anyone, I've never been interested in anyone, I haven't...” he felt his father's hand on his, telling him _breath._ “I don't care about anyone and I don't think I ever will, not to mention... not in the way you think...”

Zayn looked up to see that everyone was watching him intently; Safa had that look of pride that she only dedicated to him, while his other two sisters and mother give him a reassuring smile.

Before he knew it, he was already late to go to the antique shop, so he said his goodbyes and went to fly off the bike to work, where Nettie was waiting for him with a pink box adorned with a yellow ribbon. She leaves a kiss on his cheek, wishing him a happy birthday before leaving.

When Zayn had settled down, he searched in his pocket for Harry, unsuccessfully as the little young man was not there; he look for him on the backroom radios, in old magazines, on vinyl, on record players, everywhere without finding him. A customer emerged from the atrocious weather that was seen outside, then he spotted a rebellious curls near the coffee machine.

Hours passed, and with them Harry's absence, so Zayn spent most of the day sighing at the loneliness he felt; he had become too accustomed to the presence of the little curly boy in his life, of his deep and leisurely voice coupled with his rambling eyes, who always seemed to explore his surroundings; never shut up, always had something to talk about, and more since Zayn got him the medical books and curiosities about the world, from then on he seemed to speak even by the elbows. That tired smile, the cheeks pinked by the constant blush, the way that Harry made him laugh like no one else with his jokes...

Zayn sigh again, where would the little human be?

After three o'clock in the afternoon, Linda showed up at the door with a cake with 28 smoky candles—or many candles, if one person asked Zayn—. She wishes him a very happy birthday and went back to the torrential rain that fell from the other side of the display case. All he had left was looking out the deserted street and the raindrops fell on the huge glass.

No one came on the rainy days, always so cold and desolate, more so when the snow was still as a feverish memory of December; the heater was warming up the whole place, but his bones were cooling just from thinking of going back outside, to getting wet, Zayn had forgotten the umbrella at home and neither Linda nor Nettie's gift was one-Mary’s beautiful granddaughter had given him a leather jacket, from designer, extremely expensive, and he was sure that if he borrowed one umbrella from the store Mary would tell him to keep it, she always did that, Zayn already had a collection of umbrellas and vinyls in the attic thanks to the good heart of the old lady, so he did not need to add another to the pile.

At closing time, Zayn found Harry's small body next to the cash register, cocky and somehow reflecting sadness, as if the color around him was blue and not the warm yellow he always possessed.

"Hey..." Zayn reached out his hand to caress the curls “where have you been all day? I missed you so much...”

Harry, as miserable as only he could be, pulled from his back a piece of paper that spread to Zayn with a sad gesture. It was a small book with drawings resembling him and Harry in marine versions, with bodies of mermaids; the story was simple, a little newt that was very sad, that was Harry, he spent most of his life alone, until he found a beautiful lake lord, Zayn, who kept him company and the they lived very happy.

"Harry” Zayn felt the air was missing, but not for the usual reasons “this is...”

"Horrible," the little human's voice came out in a squeal. “I'm so sorry I didn't remember your birthday... no, no...” Harry shed several tears. “I didn't even know it was your birthday... and I couldn't even make a decent gift, just a silly tale, because I can't make a delicious cake like Linda, and I can't buy you an Alexander McQueen jacket like... like...”

Harry seemed to shrink in his place, sobbing as he had never; Zayn, with trembling hands, took the small body of the curler, brought him as close as he could to his chest to kiss the curls.

"Honestly, Harry, it is the most beautiful gift anyone's ever given me and coming from you makes it even more special. Thank you.”

Harry looked at him with dreamy eyes so he could recompose himself, and though he kept sobbing in Zayn's pocket while he left everything ready to close, the brunette again stroked his hair, as if somehow that action conveyed Harry of how much the gift meant.

As he left the shop, the rain fell by the pitch; rivers ran through the streets with the water coming down into the colanders, so Nettie's gift proved extremely useful in protecting Harry from getting wet, as Zayn felt soaked from his feet to his knees and from there all the hair felt wet, but while the little human was well protected he did not mind looking for his bicycle altogether. After not seeing it, he gave up, accepting that someone would probably have taken the bike, so Zayn started running door-to-door to try to protect heed from the rain, or at least for intervals, as he felt his whole body wet, even the pocket where the little human was.

He stopped more than usual under a tree on a deserted street; all the windows were closed and the air froze his lungs, but Zayn managed to feel Harry pulling his shirt; was a little less wet than him, but he trembled anyway.

"I know you told your family that you’re no interested on anyone... in the sense of a couple” the air mixed with the water hit the little face. “And I also know that Nettie and Linda would be great couples for a future... or anyone else” the little hands where clinging on the fabric of the shirt as if Harry’s life depended on it “but I think... I think I love you.”

Zayn's heart stopped; he didn't expect that, or perhaps he did, but he hadn't prepared any coherent answers, even after his heart and mind admitted that he felt the same way and had prepared to admit his feelings for the past 7 months.

"And it is not a love like Louis's; is, a love... that I love you... I feel it here” the little hand covered his heart. “And I'd like to... I'd like to kiss you; kiss you like you did Nettie that time, but… I want you to want it this time.”

Harry looked up to look him straight in the eye, green eyes shining like stars trying to make his dream come true.

Zayn pulled him out of his pocket, and with firm hands held Harry at the height of his face; the little boy closed his eyes, waiting for him to do something, so the brunette had no choice but to swallow the fear and palpitations to start breathing in times: 3 seconds inhaling, 3 seconds exhaling. Then he approached; it was strange to kiss something so particular, lips so small, but somehow it felt good to have the young man curled up that way.

The kiss went on longer than it should and was broken by the fear that struck Zayn instilled in him. Harry smiled wide, but it was noticeable in his eyes that the kiss had proved to be too strange. Unnatural.

Zayn ran the rest of the way back home and as his mother seem he entered she rushed him to change his clothes or maybe bathe, then come down and say hello to his family. He stripped himself of all the garments once in the attic, but just before taking off his underwear he flipped to bed to see Harry, who was naked, wrapped in the sweater Zayn had left the day before on the bed, smiled numbly.

"You have nothing to fear," Harry took off the sweater to extend it to Zayn.

The brunette smiled half-sided, bent over to kiss Harry on the lips, or what it felt like, and then became completely naked.

By the time he was dressed again, Harry was already lying in bed, seeing fluffy and cute. On Zayn’s phone was a message from Louis:

_8:57, Lotus: Tomorrow we'll go to the beach. Mary said yes, so don't make an excuse that you have to go to work._

_8:57, Lotus: Mom lent me her car and it's time Harry to see the sea, xX_

_8:58, Lotus: BOYS NIGHT!_

_9:01, Lotus: we're supposed to stay there, in case you didn't understand the hint of the boys' night..._

Zayn sigh heavily as he set an alarm to prepare everything for the trip.

In the living room and kitchen were all his relatives who were going to hug him to wish him a happy birthday. The rest of the night he spent in a cloud of smiles next to Safa's constant warmth, who seemed to be glued to him.

For the first time in a long time, Zayn felt tranquility in his heart as he was surrounded by so many people, even his family; he had no palpitations, nor the lack of air or the feeling of sadness that seemed to hang on his shoulders from time to time. He felt happy, he loved, and he was loved.

At midnight his family lit the candles on the chocolate cake Waliyha prepared for him; the cake filled his nose and eyes, but his mother's soft palm wiped the tracks despite his protests, he was almost 30 years old and needed none of that anymore.

When his family retired to the various rooms of the house, his father sat him at the table, with a decisive glance, he extended a yellow folder containing the scriptures of the house.

"I was offered a job in London as a manager; The pay is excellent, and your mother has already found an apartment. You can travel with us, you'll always be welcome, beta, but if you decide to stay, I want you to have this” Yasser his hands on the notarized paper “something safe.”

"Baba...”

"I'm not asking you to make the decision right now, but I want you to take this into consideration.”

"Baba, this is too much, the house is worth thousands and none of the girls have been given anything so big... Safa should...”

"Safa will be fine, you are my boy, no matter how old you are. And your sisters will be fine, I talked to them, they all agree with this, with the gift.”

"Don't you think I'm capable of anything because of my condition?”

“Beta, no. You have a delicate heart, and a mind too noisy for your own good, but that doesn't stop you from anything” Zayn’s eyes filled with tears at perspective.

"Are you sure about this, baba? You could sell a house and get money for the future...”

"It's fine like this, Zayn; maybe that way you can write that children's story you've always wanted, right? Illustrate it and everything.”

Zayn's father kissed his head before leaving the kitchen to head to the armchair with blankets where his wife expected him, while the brunette climbed to the attic; Safa was in his bed, curled up against the wall and Harry was on the pillow next to her.

The next day, the alarm ripped Zayn out of the pleasant dream he was having, as did his younger sister, who threw a book at his direction, which luckily did not attack any part of his body. He took what he could, ripped Harry off the pillow, grabbed the jeweler's clothes and headed for the exit, leaving only a note saying he would come back the next day.

Louis arrived in his mother's car, with a smug smile, sunglasses and clothes too light for the cold he felt in the atmosphere. He kissed both cheeks to Zayn and offered Harry a small shock of fists before heading off the interstate to St. Ives, the curly one kept chattering about the story he had made the day before and everything else, poorly omitting the kiss and declaration of love, although the blue-eyed boy seemed to perceive him as he looked the darker in the eye.

After an hour of drive, Louis chose to stop in the middle of nowhere to take pictures of the three together, saying how many good experiences they would get from that trip, as for many years they didn't go on a walk just from _friends._ They ate when they got back on the road.

"You should learn to drive, Zayn, this trip is killing me, I haven't been driving for months, and a three-hour trip is a kick in the ass; usually I'm just standing on the train when I make such a long trip. You really should learn to drive, Z, it's an essential thing in life.”

"Really? In a small town like the one we live in and you can get to all the places walking? I think my bike is the best means of transport. “

"The one that was stolen from you?”

“Hum... Will appear soon.”

"Zayn, Zayn, Zayn... learn to drive and when we go home you drive, don't you? Right Harry?”

"I think you're driving very well, Lou” Harry was on Louis' shoulder, well wrapped in a shoe lase.

"Thank you, Harold baby.”

Louis did not stop talking for the rest of the journey, of course, and as Harry loved to speak in the same way as his friend did, within half an hour, the kissing theme came afloat, so Zayn ended up blushing to much for his own good.

Arriving at St. Ives, Louis went straight to a small hotel with a large house frontage, where they were waiting for a room with twin beds and warm blankets; Harry could not contain happiness in his body of the desire to see the sea. Zayn accommodated things in the closet as Louis left Harry sitting on the window railing, looking beautiful with the sweater and his hair scrambled thanks to the wind.

The first few hours, after breakfast at the hotel, were spent on the beach; Harry was covered from head to toe with sunscreen even though the day was cloudy.

"UV rays, the ones that cause skin cancer, can pass through clouds when light doesn't go through them altogether. Cloudy days are when the sunscreen should be used the most.”

Zayn looked at Louis gracefully, as Harry seemed really determined to use the cream, so, despite his tiny size, he ended up bending the other two to do his will.

The sea was freezing, but it didn't stop the beautiful view. Harry kept commenting on how beautiful the whole place was and the things they had to do: go to the park, eat fish and potatoes, go to the lighthouse on the seashore at night when no one saw them, have a beer at the bar near the pier, visit the fair, surf, swim and so many other things that Zayn was sure they wouldn't be able to do in such a short time while being in the place, but Louis looked as excited as the little human, so they started drinking beer on the beach to end up riding on a surfboard, which a man earned Louis at too high a price, alongside Harry, who was inside a seabag Louis had gotten online a couple of months ago.

Zayn could see, from the safety of the beach, as Louis swayed calmly in the sea, with the small waves under the surfboard, and, although he could not see Harry at such a distance, he was sure that the little human was enjoying the sea breeze, the water and the saline sensation in his skin next to the sun that would end up tanning him; the milky color of his skin was already beginning to be lost to give way to a caramel tone.

At that, they gent to the fair, Harry holding on with all his might at Zayn as the wheel of fortune turned around, as he had never had a view like that, with such an impressive height. They ate until they burst and drank like they treat to compensate the years Zayn did not; at the bar near the beach beer orders traveled as fast as they could from the bartender to the table that hid the three boys, then tequila, where Harry ended up sinking his head into the glass, followed by colorful drinks, which according to the little human had too much paint, but that didn't stop them from continuing to drink.

Louis ended up talking to a couple of girls at 11 p.m., after that Zayn was missing a few minutes of the night in his memory, as in an instant they were at the bar and the next he watched Harry vomit in the hotel room; it seemed that the little human was expelling all the food candy he had ingested, which, on a normal scale, was just a stain that Louis covered with a hand towel so he could lie down. Then everything went black.

“Zayn” Louis's distant voice pierced the brunette ears. “Bro, wake up, take this and let's go down for breakfast, I think Harry needs food.”

Zayn opened his eyes to find himself with a glass of water and a couple of pills to one side, while Louis was sitting on his bed, rubbing his head at the same time Harry seemed to be vomiting once more.

"How much did we drink last night?” Zayn's head was snuffing and a burning on his wrist made his mouth twist.

"I think long enough for you to get a tattoo next to your _doll_ ," Louis pointed to Zayn's wrist, then Harry's abdomen.

"Oh shit...”

“Yep; apparently the tattooist doesn't mind doing this on our good Harry.”

Louis took the small body in his hands, olive leaves on his pelvis that cradled a small moon on Harry, while on Zayn's wrist rested a bracelet that held a tiny sun.

Zayn's mouth tastes like the ground, while his head felt like a sponge that was being constantly squeezed.

"All right, we'll, we'll survive," Louis got out of bed and clapped awfully hard, earning growls from the other two boys. “Zayn take a bath and we'll go for breakfast; Harry, stop vomiting or you'll end up throwing your eyes out” the little human seemed to be gone from his own body.

"Don't listen to him, Harry," Zayn, holding the curly boy in his hands to cradle him in his chest. “Let's take a bath; we'll finish the hot water and leave Louis bathe in ice.”

Zayn left Harry on a tray with hot water while he bathed in the shower of the room; the little human seemed to be made of rag, for his limbs moved only to avoid drowning in his little tub, however, it was the first time since Zayn knew him that he had the biggest smile he had ever seen him, he attributed it to his nakedness; was the first bath where he wasn't covered by anything.

"How do you feel, Harry? There's no bath jokes today?”

"I think my body is being claimed by the old gods as a sacrifice," Zayn raised his eyebrows a lot. “I mean... I feel bad, I think my head is going to explode and my stomach hurts. “

"Oh, the bathroom helps the headache, and food will help you with everything else.”

Harry seemed convinced of that, so he worked hard in the bathroom to get out as soon as possible. Louis whiplashed to the bathroom and in less than a heartbeat, the blue-eyed boy and the brunette were in a restaurant near the harbour with all his belongings inside Louis's mother's car; the plan of the day was simple, they would only go to the museum that was in the lighthouse and, if they finished quickly, they could spend a little more time on the beach before returning home.

The greasy breakfast seemed to help them clear their minds, for as soon as they were at the lighthouse things seemed quieter than before, even more so when there was not a single person else in that place. Zayn, at some point read in a painting about that the lighthouse was merely an ornament, like the pier, since no large ship went to that port, only small modern boats that were guided by GPS, so the top of the place was padlocked, which represented a challenge for Louis.

"I bet 10 pounds I can open that lock in less than 5 minutes, you want to play?”

"That's damage to private property, Lou” Zayn was holding Harry in his pocket, feeling the little human wanted to get out.

"Don't be a party pooper, Zainie, I bet Harry wants to come in too, don't you, Harry?”

The little curly boy nod energetically, so Louis stretched out the palm of his hand; at the door that guided to the upper floor, where the lighthouse spotlight was, there was a slit the perfect size for Harry to enter.

"It won't be long; I'll just go get the key and come back.”

Harry seemed very convinced of his own words even though Zayn felt a little bad about letting the curly boy go alone, so Louis held him by the shoulder so that they could go sit near a window; they dropped down the wall until they were comfortable in their places.

"So... you kissed Harry, huh?” Louis played with the fabric of his trousers, as if he did not want to give great importance to the matter.

"I... Yes, I did. Yesterday Harry felt bad about not knowing it was my birthday and he gave me this.”

From his wallet, Zayn pulled out the little story so Louis could read it. A smile burst into the blue-eyed boy's face.

"Honestly, I think this is better than the ticket I gave you. Have you kissed again? I mean, since the gift.”

"No; I think Harry, he didn't...” Zayn felt the itch on his skin again. “It doesn't feel right, you know? It's like...”

"Strange?” Zayn nodded quickly. “Well, he's several feet and some inches smaller than you, it's normal for him to feel weird.”

"But that doesn't mean I don't want him any less or...”

Louis covered Zayn in a warm embrace.

The silence surrenders them slowly, only being braked because of the waves against the rock that could be heard. Louis broke the hug after a moment, and Zayn couldn't say if it was because the position was awkward or because he didn't know what else to do.

"My parents and Safa are moving to London...” Zayn could see in Louis' eyes reflecting pain.

"Are you going with them?”

"I don't know... My parents' birthday present was the house deeds.”

"What! God, you're a lucky bug; My mom's gift was a cotton shirt and a tie with little fish... “

"Your mother save money for those gifts, Lou...”

"I know, I know, but I'd like to have a house of my own, you know, not have to be taking care of all the girls and the twins and all that” Louis dropped his head on Zayn's shoulder “would you rent me a room?”

"Sure, just don't be naked around the house.”

"Not everyone is like Harry.”

Both laughed for a long time and then stood in silence; the minutes passed and no noise was heard besides their own breaths.

After half an hour, Louis get up from the ground to go and force the door; he kicked, punched and everything he could think of, even slipped a card that ended up completely broken, but the door did not give in. When Zayn got up to call Harry's name through the door, a key was thrown through the small hole in the wall.

The door opened with a horrible sound that surely came to the hear of the lighthouse guard; the steps, eaten by the salt of the environment, they creaked by much more than Zayn imagined, and as he stepped on each of them, a particular crackle could be heard all over the place; he could not see Harry anywhere. 

Unlike the cold that felt as he climbed the stairs, when he reached the spotlight, a warmth flooded the atmosphere; hundreds of small, flickering and curious eyes, welcomed Louis and Zayn. Dozens and dozens of small faces, with small bodies, agglomerated around the brunette, and in an instant the silence that reigned was broken by the little voices calling their names.

Harry, after a brief moment, appeared at the beginning of the horde, pulling Zayn's trousers, so the brunette did not hesitate for a second to lift the beautiful boy, to keep him away from everyone else.

"Hey...” Zayn couldn't help but deflect Harry's eyes to the little people and vice versa.

"I'm tall, Zayn” Harry smiled wide as he spoke. “Sorry for not coming back before, but they all started talking and asking questions and I completely forgot how long I had been here and then they all started to show up; they showed me the place, there are many houses! Houses of my size, and they have seamstresses; the mister who cares the lighthouse knows that they are here, so he brings them a lot of food so many days and here they cook it; look, there are small frets, all of metal... and there's a hairdresser, they even have little ovens and they make cakes! Cakes of all sizes, and there's tea, of all the flavors you can imagine.”

Harry wiggle until he could be back on the ground, so he could show Zayn everything. He looked so happy, surrounded by all the little people, and they all looked so kind with the smiling faces, showing them the things they had; the lovely little houses, hundreds of them.

"Now we're 372 people living in the lighthouse” a blonde lady, smaller than Harry was telling them. “But we have the idea that there are other colonies in different places, it is impossible to think that we are the only ones.”

Harry blush at that comment.

The tour continued for a long time, ending with good wishes for they trip, although the little blonde, who looked like the head of the place, only referred to Zayn and Louis, because when the brunette took Harry to keep him in his pocket they all seemed stupefied by that action. Louis did not say a single comment for all the time they spent in the lighthouse with the little people, but at that very moment, subjected Zayn by the shoulder, giving him a look that he could only understand.

They went down the stairs to the door, where Louis gave him a half-sided smile to leave him alone with Harry. The little human, completely oblivious to the other two, only looked up at the small colony of humans who were like him; he looked in that direction with such loving eyes that Zayn could do nothing but swallow the pain that ate his mouth from his stomach so that he could give Harry a reassuring smile.

"There are many people like you up there," Zayn commented casually to get Harry's attention.

"Yes, it's wonderful to know that there's more like me, and that I'm tall... I like to be taller than the others...” the little green eyes shone in wonder, while Zayn's glasses seemed to overshadow “although I don't know what their bathrooms are like, they sure have tubs and all that, but what about the toilets?”

Zayn felt a blow to the heart as he stopped hearing the wonders Harry spoke; it was as if the little curly boy had found paradise and he felt like an anchor that took him back to earth, where everything was mundane and gray, where there were no colors and everything was horrible. Zayn felt the tears accumulate in his eyes, as well as the burning in his throat, even more so when he saw the twinkle in those beautiful green eyes.

"You know I love you, right?” Zayn spoke after what he felt a awful lot of time, so Harry suddenly shut up. “That I love you more than anything in this world and that you make me immensely happy, don't you?”

"I... Zayn, why are you crying?” Harry looked really dismayed.

"Because I know what I have to do, but I don't want to do it...”

"Zayn...”

"I know you want to stay, and that this is the place where you should live, and I want you to live here, but don't think for a second that I don't love you or that I love you any less for letting you go...”

Harry looked him straight in the eye for an instant before turning his head to look up to the top floor; even though Zayn felt his heart crumbling, he already knew what the little boy's answer would be.

"Will you be all right?” of course that would be Harry's only question.

"At some time, yes...” Zayn felt Harry’s little hands accommodating the glasses. “Just, please remember that I love you, yeah?”

"Will you come back to visit me?” Harry's eyes were also clouded with tears, especially when Zayn denied.

"No, Harry, I don't think... I don't think I'll come back. At least not for a long time...”

Then Harry began to cry and tried to hold on to Zayn's face as he had probably seen in some romantic film.

"I love you too, Zayn, and...”

"It's weird, I know...” Zayn lovingly wiped Away Harry's tears. “But you'll be fine, and so will I.”

After a few minutes, Louis came back in with a sad look, only to say goodbye to the little human who had become so dear to him too. And, as a last token of love, Zayn gave one last kiss in the curls to Harry, who represent countless times that he loved him.

Zayn cried on the way to the car and continued crying on the ride home; cried in his room and even when Louis stood by him during the night, to hug and comfort him. Safa asked what was going on, and so she also shed tears as she learned what had happened.

Zayn cry three days after the trip to St. Ives; cursing to have chosen that place from all the available sites, but Harry was happy there... small people could give him something he could never imagine to give him, and even, if he never saw the little boy again, he was happy, deep in his heart, knowing that Harry would be fine, that he would be happy, that he would have a couple and babies and everything he always dreamed of.

All he had left was the picture of the _boys' night,_ and unable to help it, he thought he should have taken more pictures of Harry.

○°○°○

°

After three months from leaving Harry at St. Ives Lighthouse, Zayn was sitting at the pastry bar where Linda worked; tea was a refuge for loneliness that intoxicated him every day since the presence of the small human had ceased to be a constant in his life.

His parents had everything packed, who two days ago left town and the moving truck would arrive the next day for things, while he barely filled the house and a room with everything he used to have in the attic. The only consolation he found was the constant presence of Louis, who was gradually taking over a room in the house while a portion of the refrigerator was practically his.

"Harry?”

Zayn seemed to see the face of the little human he loved so much in a man that was walking on the other side of the bar, but he was tall and his hair did not fall into rampant curls, instead, was held by a headband with a huge bow, his body was not thin, he was thick, with muscles wherever Zayn could see.

"Yes? " The boy, with an extraordinary resemblance to the little human came out of the kitchen, “does anyone call me?” The young man's green eyes fell on Zayn's, which made him have a subtle blush on his cheeks.

"Harry?” The boy smiled shyly, approaching the place where Zayn was sitting.

"Well, that’s what my nametag says, would you like to order something else?" the young man's smile showed a smile full of dimples; after a few seconds of staring, the boy seemed uncomfortable in his place “is everything okay?”

"You remind me of someone," Zayn tried to smile, at which the boy seemed to be more nervous about.

"Really? I hope it's someone good, or a good memory; I wouldn't want to be a bad memory for someone so attractive” the young man opened his eyes a lot, blushing to his neck. “I mean, you're not attractive, I mean, yes, you are, and a lot... But I... unnnh, God, please forgive me, I'm new in town, and I know that's not an excuse, but...”

Zayn managed to smile at the gesture of the young man standing in front of him; at such a short distance he could sense a subtle aroma of vanilla and lavender mixed with the distinctive smell of freshly baked bread.

He felt a sore throat followed by a few words he couldn't keep locked in his mouth:

"My name is Zayn.”

The boy, Harry, smiled back at him, extending his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Infinite thanks for reading the whole story, I hope you've enjoyed as much as I was during writing it.  
> And... yeah, thanks!


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